The Christmas Tree

Christmas 1932 and deep into the Great Depression, the family received “relief” through FDR’s recovery program, while Dad looked for work. The little money received each month bought bread and milk, paid rent and utilities, and sometimes left a few pennies for niceties. The budget did not include a Christmas tree. But two children yearned for Santa and presents, bells and decorations, and a Christmas tree. Dad reasoned that if he waited ‘til Christmas Eve to purchase a tree, he’d get a bargain.

            “The store keepers don’t want to get stuck with unsold trees and they’ll take anything to get rid of them,” he said.

                        After supper on Dec. 24, Mom got the children ready for bed.

“Where’s our Christmas tree?” Dorothy said.

 “Santa will bring it with the presents,” Mom answered.

The children scurried to their bedroom to get socks for Santa to fill.

“We don’t have a fireplace. Where can we put our socks and how’s Santa going to get in?” Sonny asked.

                        Dad said, “Put your socks on the window sill and we’ll leave the window unlocked. Santa will come in that way.”           

            The children used thumb tacks to attach their socks to the wooden window sill and after making sure they felt secure, scrambled to the bedroom, and to bed.

            After enlisting the assistance of Aunt Josie to stay with the children, Mom and Dad, bundled up in winter coats with scarves tied around their necks, went shopping for a tree. Their breath smoked from their mouths as they breathed in the frigid Brooklyn night air.

            They ambled along Seventh Ave., inspected each grove of pines cut and stacked upright against hastily constructed supports made from thin wood slats and rope. Dad haggled with each proprietor.

“A dollar? For this? I’ll give you a quarter. No? C’mon Ann, let’s move on.” Stamping her feet on the icy pavement, Mom rubbed her hands together against the cold and pleaded.

“We’re not going to get a dollar tree for a quarter. Let’s buy a tree we can afford and go home. I’m cold.”

            The twenty-five cent budget didn’t get them much of a tree even though they waited ‘til Christmas Eve and the shopkeepers’ signs proclaimed “reduced to sell”. A skinny pole of a trunk with scraggly branches sagging out at odd angles leaving gaping bare spots in the asymmetrical tree caught Dad’s eye.

            “How much?” he asked. The merchant looked Mom and Dad up and down, saw their threadbare clothes and anxious faces. “Seventy-five cents,” he answered.

            “I’ll give you a quarter,” Dad retorted. The merchant shook his head. “I won’t take less than fifty cents.”  Mom begged Dad with her eyes. After more haggling they agreed on 35 cents.

            “Okay. We’ll take it but can I have some of these loose branches lying around on the ground?” Dad asked.

            “Sure, help yourself. They’ll just be carted away and burned anyway.” The merchant collected his two nickles and a quarter from Dad and nodded his approval.

            Dad tucked a few of the plumper loose branches under his arm and Mom and Dad carried the scrawny tree home. With his manual drill, Dad bored small holes into the tree trunk it spots where it looked barest. He used his pocket knife to whittle the ends of the branches into points. After dipping them in mucilage glue, he screwed the pointed ends into the drill holes fastening the branches to the tree trunk with thin wire. When he finished, the tree had magically filled out.             Mom carefully placed each glass ornament and decorated the finished tree with crinkly silver tinsel saved from year to year in a brown paper bag.

            They filled each child’s sock with an orange, two walnuts, three wrapped hard candies and a small toy from Woolworth’s five & dime store. Each child got two more presents, clothes made from hand-me-downs given the family by relatives. Mom’s excellent sewing skills camouflaged the worn and patched areas to make the clothes appear new. She carefully wrapped each present in Christmas paper saved from previous years, and lovingly arranged each present beneath the tree.

            When Mom completed decorating, she stood back to survey the finished display.

            “It looks as nice as a three dollar tree.” Mom said. “It will make the children so happy in the morning.” The children neither knew nor cared what their parents did to make their Christmas happy. They just enjoyed the day.